Set foot on this soil,
this shit-stained ground,
where, for your toil,
you get beaten down.
Where the blue skies roll grey.
Prayed so much
to get here,
and yet
the welcome mat
is frayed,
because people
are too focused
on themselves and hate.
Now you realise
you've overpaid.
So many lives
lost in floods.
Swallow down
your tears for good.
No one will care, or offer
a welcoming hug,
just a cold hard shrug,
as you scrabble
on the sands.
Welcome to this green and pleasant land.
Where the people can be shirty,
inner city life can be
cold and lonely,
grim and dirty
and no one will give a damn.
They will look upon you
like you’re the enemy
or just out to scam.
Welcome to England,
this festering hive,
where Brexit lives
in the minds
of those
that have
less than
half a brain cell
to share,
and someone lost the keys.
No one cares
about anyone
but themselves,
and even that
is a paper-thin shell.
Welcome to England.
or should we call it hell.
Things are not all bad.
In the damp decay,
and broken-down arteries
of this isle. We play. The romantics,
the artists, the poets, the lovers,
the moon huggers. You will find us.
Staring at the sky at night.
In some bar with an open mic.
You will find us where words live,
in libraries and bookshops.
We will listen to your stories.
We will open our arms
and welcome you in.
We will warn
about the tories
and their little circle
of misery and sin.
This grey, unpleasant land
we are all residing in.
Thanks for reading
Please take a few moments
to check out my new book "Poetic Outlaw"
available from Amazon
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CVQ5F9K8/
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